A Good Horse
by ClassicLovinGirl
Summary: The decision to give up an old friend he just might owe his life to, doesn't come easily to Adam...


~A Good Horse~

"Shh, shh... it's alright, boy," Hoss heard his brother utter softly from inside the Virginia City stables as he was finally able to get inside out of the wind and rain. The pained whinnies to which the voice was responding, slowly quieted until they stopped altogether. Hoss took off his great hat and slapped it against his thigh, ridding it of the accumulated water from the downpour outside as he ran a hand through his mussed hair. He had just helped Roy get the two criminals off the street and into his cells, the mayhem of the event finally settling down and people scurrying through the rain going about their business once again. Another whinny sounded from the third stall on the right where the light from a single lantern was burning, the only light in the whole stable. Hoss grimaced at the noise, accompanied again by the quiet and reassuring voice. He buried his hands deep in his pockets and walked slowly towards the stall, remembering what had happened and apprehensive about what he was going to see once he reached it.

Stretched out on the hay-covered floor, an unnatural position for any healthy horse, lay the big chestnut gelding, it's breath coming in shallow heaves, sweat covering its shining neck as it was stroked by its master. Hoss glanced at the horse's right flank and saw blood-soaked rags covering what he knew to be quite a serious injury judging by the horse's manner.

"He's not doing well, Hoss," Adam said monotone. Even though he hadn't looked up from his ministrations, he still knew exactly who the person was he heard come in and now quietly stood behind him.

Hoss hadn't known how to break the silence before, but now that Adam had broken it for him, he had no fear of intruding and carefully stepped into the stall, edging his way opposite Adam. The ailing horse between them barely lifted his head at the newcomer before resting it on the floor and partly against Adam's lap again. Hoss gently laid a trained hand down on the horse's injured leg, drawing a frightened whinny from him, but Adam was quick to calm. The flesh felt hot and burning under Hoss's touch, and he didn't want to uncover the leg to see the damage the robber's bullet had inflicted.

Not wanting to cause the horse any more distress, he leaned back and rested up against the rough plank boards behind him. "Everything squared away out there?" Adam asked, looking over at him, his face showing a calm emotionless facade as he rested his own head against the side of the stall.

"Yeah, I just helped Roy take the varmints down tuh the jailhouse," Hoss answered, picking at a piece of hay that had annoyingly stuck itself in his pocket. Adam didn't respond, but just kept on stroking Sport's glistening neck.

He caught site of Hoss's quick glances at the gelding between them. "How bad do you think he is?" he asked, knowing full well how bad off his horse was, but wanting his brother's well-learned opinion anyway.

Hoss looked up at him with that sorry, guilty look he always adopted when he knew what he would answer was going to hurt the person asking. "Well, Adam... he don't look too good. That bullet looked like it went in there mighty deep. How far'd yuh hafta go tuh get it?"

"It was pretty close to the bone; I had to cut through most of the flesh and muscle to reach it," Adam replied with no emotion yet again, just stating the pure and simple facts.

Hoss winced at the thought of what the poor horse had gone through and realized it must have been just as hard on his brother as it had been for the creature, even though Adam, for some reason, felt inclined not to show it. Like Hoss, Adam didn't care to see any animal hurt. He possibly had a greater aversion to it than himself. Hoss was quite sure that if it had been another animal, his brother would have felt inclined to put it out of his misery on the spot but... well, Sport was different he reckoned. But still, it wasn't fair to let any horse suffer so.

As the two fell silent once again, the only sounds came from the deluge of rain on the roof and the horse's labored breathing, Hoss thought back to an hour earlier. Whether it looked like a regular humdinger of a rain storm coming or not, the two of them had to go into town that day to pick up supplies they were running low on. He could see it all so well. They had been coming around the corner of "C" and Taylor Street on their way to the Mercantile, when a disturbance from the bank drew everyone's attention, causing women and children and some men to flee, while to others it was a call for assistance. Urging their horses forward, they found Roy and his two young deputies shooting it out with armed bandits coming from the bank, marked satchels slung over their shoulders, evidence of a hold-up gone awry. Young Bobby Slake and Whitney Norton were still rookie deputies, a fact that was starkly evident as the two could be seen quivering behind a rail post and a wagon of feed, their shaky shots doing well to just be pointed in the right direction. Adam and Hoss quickly deserted their horses, giving them a smart rap on the hind quarters to make them flee the premises before dodging the flying bullets to make it to Roy's side.

_"What happened to our cozy little town, Roy?" Adam asked in a slightly playful, wry tone, sliding down behind the horse trough next to the Sheriff._

"Danged if I know, Adam. Them two hoodlums in there've holed 'emselves up."

"Hostages?" Adam asked, firing off a shot in the direction of the bank which pleasingly broke a window over the head of one of them.

"No, I don't think so," Roy answered. "They seem tuh just be lookin' tuh save their own skins right now." Roy finished reloading his gun and looked up to observe the situation. "Well, I don't plan to keep shootin' it out with these fellars till the cows come home. Adam, I can't send these young'uns; they'd probably wind up shootin' each other. You figure you can come up beside the jail on that side so we can cut 'em off?" Roy questioned, indicating the direction.

Adam followed his gaze, before heading out for the position, calling for his brother to cover him.

Hoss sighed. They had helped Roy out of a dozen situations like that, breaking up barroom brawls and joining posses to hunt down criminals; and even as he had watched his brother move into position from his point of cover behind the corner of a building, everything had seemed fairly easy, and there was no doubt in his mind that the men would be apprehended, or at least stopped one way or another. Adam had managed to cross the street without difficulty and was approaching the bank from the side.

That was when the clouds released their fury of rain onto the earth below; buckets of it poured down it seemed like. So hard was it in fact, that Adam's figure soon became nothing more than a moving black blur. Maybe they thought they could make it under cover of the heavy rain, Hoss didn't know; but for reasons unknown, the robbers ran from the bank trying to make a break for it. Adam was caught in the open with no spot for retreat. The masked men saw him. The shorter of the two turned. As he readied his gun, he suddenly cried out and grabbed at his leg where a thin stream of blood was flowing. Hearing the shot close behind him, his partner turned. Adam cocked his gun again to bring the second man down, but as the hammer fell, the sickening click of a misfire was heard. His cartridges were wet! Both he and the last standing gunman realized at the same time that he was helpless. The man raised his gun for a kill.

Hoss had heard the first shot and thought he saw one of the bank robbers fall, but he was having trouble making out the other two. Suddenly through the gray precipitation, Hoss saw a flash of something red, race toward the bank. After a moment to make sure his eyes were seeing straight, he recognized his brother's horse, and could hear the familiar shrill whinny as its bulk obscured the other two figures in front of the bank. Amidst the pouring rain and the horse's cries, a second shot was heard followed by one last cry from the horse, then nothing.

Hoss remembered running through the pouring rain to see what had happened and found Adam stroking Sport's side as the horse held its rear hoof in evident distress, the blood dripping from his flank, pooling and mixing with the rain in the street. He looked over at the two criminals. One was groaning over the shot to the leg while the other's lifeless body was stuck in the mud beside the boardwalk, his face smashed in by what Hoss could only recognize as a hoof to the face.

He was brought out of his thoughts by Adam reassuring the hurting creature once again. Poor Sport seemed to be getting worse, his whinnies of pain becoming more frequent. Hoss heaved a heavy sigh. "Adam?"

Adam didn't look up at his call this time, but kept his face turned toward the animal.

"Adam... Adam that bullet done a lotta damage. Ol'... ol Sport here he's in a lotta pain. Big brother, don't yuh think..."

A pained expression crossed Adam face, one so small Hoss would probably have been the only one to recognize it. He wished he hadn't had to bring it up, but the horse's chances of being saved were minimal, with a bullet so close to the bone, the muscle torn apart; a horse without the use of a leg is a dead horse. He knew it was cruel and unfair, but that's how it was. Life out there was cruel; there were no two ways about it.

"He saved my life..." Adam's low smooth voice broke in softly, his hand deftly smoothing out the horse's usually thick and shining main which was now matted and wet. "I thought that gunman was gonna cut me down out there. He would've too. My chambers were wet, the gun wouldn't fire. He was about to shoot when this fella came running up, right in between us." Adam chuckled wryly. "You know this horse in rain. You have to practically drag him out into it, and he's never liked guns. Well, he came and stood right in between us, striking out at that guy. He fell backwards and the gun went off, hitting him in the leg. If it hadn't been for him, Hoss, I'd... probably be dead right now."

Hoss looked down again and sighed. "Small thanks, I reckon, for somethin' like that."

Adam nodded. "Yeah." He sighed, his matter-of-fact demeanor returning. "But, it's not fair to keep him going through this," he said softly, reaching his right hand back for what Hoss knew all too well.

"Adam." Adam looked back at him. "Why don't yuh... give it a little more time. I have a feelin' ol' Sport just might have another card up his sleeve." Hoss stared at his brother intently, his resolve to not see him have to carry out the selfless act, now strong. "Not yet..."

_

Adam gazed into his old horse's stall, soon to be occupied by another animal. It was the best way to go Adam thought, drifting off to sleep and unable to be stirred to wakefulness that morning. He had been a good horse, the best he'd ever had, and definitely the one he'd had the longest. He remembered when he had to leave the spirited young chestnut to go to college, hadn't ridden him for more than a year at that point. When he returned, the two had become a pair and remained a pair. They had both been so young then. So long ago... He turned his head down for a moment before deciding there was no point in brooding anymore. It was getting late.

He straightened from leaning on the barn post and winced at the familiar knots that had formed in his back, customary for his age, he supposed. As he turned to leave, he caught a pair of bright hazel eyes peering at him from the side of the barn door, curious eyes, looking to see what he'd do. Adam smiled, chuckling. "C'mere, you," he called, extending his arms to his four year-old son, Eric. The dark curly-haired lad immediately started for his Pa and jumped into his arms to be flung around in the air before settling nicely on Adam's hip, the movement smooth and well-timed from lots of experience and practice.

"You alright, Pa?" he asked. He'd been watching his Pa the whole time he'd stood out in front of Sport's stall. Good ol' Sport. It'd be strange for Eric not to see the familiar chestnut roaming the pasture with the other horses anymore.

Adam smiled again at the child's concern. "Yes, I'm fine, son."

"Good," the youngster's mouth broadened in a contented smile. Adam patted the small back and held him up higher so he could blow to extinguish the lantern he'd lit.

"Come now. It's your bedtime, young man," he said as the child rested comfortably on his father's hip once again, and Adam started walking out of the barn and into the cool evening breeze. As he looked up at the stars dotting the sky, his eyes took on a reminiscent look and he thought back to a time... probably more than a decade ago by now. "Eric?" The boy brought his sleepy head up from his Pa's shoulder to look at him expectantly. "Did I ever tell you of the time, ol' Sport saved your Pa's life?"

~The End~


End file.
